


who knows how long i've been awake now?

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Depression, High School, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not today, Patrick understands, Pete is me, Pete needs help, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Unrequited Love, except I'm not in love with anyone haha, life saver, or so he thinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 21:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13303554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Pete needs a reason to say not today.Maybe it's the boy with the auburn hair and crumpled grey jeans.TW/ check tags. Suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts.//title and lyrics from imagine dragons' nothing left to say <3





	who knows how long i've been awake now?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whatledtothis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatledtothis/gifts).



> Because I love you and you mean a lot to me my friend. Hope 2018 is kinder to the both of us. I'll always be here for you. No matter what my dear friend. Xx
> 
> Hope you enjoy this fic <3 <3

_**who knows how long i’ve been awake now?** _

_**the shadows on my wall don’t sleep** _

_**they keep calling me, beckoning.** _

_**who knows what’s right?** _

_**the lines keep getting thinner** _

_**my age has never made me wise** _

_**but i keep pushing on and on and on and on** _

* * *

Pete saw him again, the small boy with the auburn hair and downcast eyes. He was wearing the same white school shirt as yesterday, trousers crumpled and unironed. Pete didn’t know why he noticed such things, he just did.

Always had done. He didn’t know the kid’s name, he just knew, no, he was certain of the fact that the boy before him was… beautiful.

Sure, this boy had only joined the school last week. Sure, Pete had given countless people the same compliment. But back then, it’d never meant anything - well, it had, just not as much as it did now.

* * *

He didn’t have the guts to talk to the boy.

Pete loved socialising, he’d always been the confident, more outspoken friend out of Joe and Andy.

But damn, this kid had him fucked.

“You can do this, just say hello, it’s not that difficult.” He muttered to himself under his breath, as quietly as possible.

Finally gaining the courage, he walked up to the nervous boy. “Um, hi, I’m Pete Wentz, I noticed you’re new - ever need anything just come find me.”

The boy with the fedora looked to him, eyebrows raised and head cocked the side. “Hi,” his voice was gentle and careful - almost like he was scared to talk above a whisper.

“I’m, I’m- P-Pa-Pat-Patrick S-Stump, but, but y-yo-you ca-can ca-ca-call me ‘Trick.” He stuttered, biting his lip nervously.

Patrick stood there for a second, looking down once more, eye contact broken. He turned away from the boy who found himself loving him.

But Patrick had no idea how Pete felt, so he walked away. Out of the cafeteria.

* * *

And so, sighing helplessly, Pete weaved in and out of the bustling cliques who’s words stung and throbbed and killed.

Collapsing into the uncomfortable, plastic chair he was oblivious to his teacher’s boring lecture before him.

All he could think about was the quiet boy with the auburn hair and crumpled, grey trousers.

* * *

The skyline of Chicago was coated in darkness, the only lights were from blinding street lights, the stars surrounded him.

Stars that tried their best to be seen throughout the artificial brightness.

Pete was walking along one of Chicago’s many bridges, the cold air bit as his fingertips, he shakily stuffed his hands in his pockets.

* * *

His brain was once again screaming at him to die. To disappear. To stop breathing.

To do something other than fucking fail.

Maybe he would. Maybe he could. Maybe he should.

Then he’d be okay.

* * *

All he wanted to do was to be okay, and (no matter what his therapist told him - because no matter how hard he listened, the words they spoke never cut through the static) maybe death was the way to make that happen.

His legs refused to cooperate with his brain, and so he stood, frozen. He laughed darkly to himself. Just yesterday afternoon, he’d been pining over some guy he barely knew - now he was thinking about throwing himself off the bridge at 4:30 in the morning.

* * *

It was sad how quickly his rationality disappeared and the shadows took the reins. Oh, how he hates it when he loses control. He hates it with all he is.

“Shit.” He cursed over and over, pressing his hands desperately to the sides of his head, pressing down. The agony wouldn’t cease, the shadows only grew louder at his protests.

He didn’t need this. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need this.

* * *

 ******YOU’RE NOTHING DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME YOU FUCKING RETARD.  
YOU CAN’T DO ANYTHING RIGHT. STOP TRYING. YOU FUCKING FAILURE.  
DIE AND IT’LL BE OKAY. THEY’LL BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU. DIE. DIE.**

* * *

His breaths were ragged. Heavy and desperate.

Each breath took so much from the broken boy. He had never felt more suicidal in his entire fucking 17 years. He didn't want to be here.

 ** _JUMP AND IT'LL ALL BE OKAY_  
** **_DO IT_  
YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT  
YOU ARE NOTHING  
YOU NEVER WERE  
NEVER WILL BE.**

**_DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND. ME._ **

* * *

His brain wouldn't stop screaming. As he heart broke, as the blood in his veins ceased to black venom - he choked out a fragile, quiet yes.

“I understand.” His voice was empty. Phone vibrating and flashing constantly as it lay, discarded, on the pavement beside him, just near the barrier. The very barrier separating him from life and from death.

* * *

And then he heard it.

The voice of the boy he found himself hopelessly, motherfucking, head over heels in love with.

“Please don't go.”

* * *

“Hey ‘Trick.” His voice was devoid of emotion, he was… Empty.

To Stump’s dismay and utter terror, Pete was still holding onto the barrier, facing out towards the water below him.

“What are you doing here?” Patrick knew. God, did he know. But he needed to hear it from the boy who was on the brink of… Leaving. Forever. Pete didn't reply. He physically couldn't.

“You don't need say anything, Wentz. It's okay. I just want you to know, the world needs you to go round,” Patrick wiped his eyes, trying not to fuck this up for the both of them. “Fuck, Wentz, I- I need you.”

* * *

Pete was on the brink of letting go, his hands were sweating and he found his grip slipping. Inhaling to keep the fear at bay, he softly asked the boy who might save his life: “You do?”

Patrick tried, and failed to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, I do.”

His felt his grip loosening on the cold, metallic barrier. “Patrick? Can you help me?”

The fear was radiating off the boy in waves.

Patrick was too late. He didn't realise. He fucked up so motherfucking badly. Pete was falling. And then he wasn't falling because Patrick had his arms wrapped around the older boy’s torso and waist.

* * *

Then Pete was on the wrong side of reality once more, but it was less heavy than it had been in seemingly forever.

And as he felt Patrick's arm tight around his torso, one hand stroking his hair soothingly. He found the reason he wanted all along.

His reason to say not today.

Hopefully not tomorrow.

And maybe never.

Because when Patrick whispered the three words he needed to hear everything fell into place for a second.

And that was all he needed.

“I've got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this was ok. 
> 
> Might be back sooner than expected. 
> 
> Love you alll <3 
> 
> Stay alive for me.
> 
> This was a cry for help. I'm sorry.  
> I'm trying. I'm trying. 
> 
> <3


End file.
